Bloodroot

October 19, 2009
Despite a few vivid moments, this uneven debut, a four-generation Appalachian family epic, loses sight of the intriguing mythology it lays out early on. Though Byrdie Lamb inherited the mystical powers of the “granny women” of her grandmother's mountain village, she's failed to protect her family: daughter Clio runs away from Bloodroot Mountain at 17 to get married and is later killed, along with her husband, in a car accident, leaving their daughter, Myra, in Byrdie's care. And though Byrdie tries to raise Myra right, Myra falls under the spell of an abusive alcoholic. Her children, twins Laura and Johnny, grow up largely in fear, and eventually social workers remove them from their home. As adults, they return for different reasons: she for comfort, he for revenge. Narrated by several members of the Lamb-Odom clan, the narrative initially swirls around the mystery of Byrdie's powers, but as the story plays out, her gift (or, perhaps, curse) is unfortunately backgrounded by the violence of those who marry into the family and sow ruin. Greene has a sharp eye for combustible moments and a fine ear for dialect, but the follow-through doesn't do justice to the setup.

November 1, 2009
Greene's debut shows three generations of an eastern Tennessee family struggling against abusive men and narrow middle-class values that try to destroy their unusually active spirits.

In the 1960s, Byrdie raises her granddaughter Myra on Bloodroot Mountain. She can tell early on that Myra has"the touch," an extra sensitivity passed down by the women of their family, though it skipped Byrdie. Myra's grandmother is especially devoted to her because all of Birdie's children died young, including Myra's mother Clio, whose car was hit by a train while she was out hell-raising with Myra's dad. The narration of Part One alternates between Birdie and Myra's boyhood friend Doug, who loves the wild girl but knows she'll never be his. Then puberty hits. Poor Doug, the novel's most endearing, least tortured character, disappears from the book after Myra is swept up in a passionate romance with John Odom, whose father owns a local hardware store in the valley. John's family is as"touched" in its way as Myra's. Desire turns into violent possessiveness. Greene manipulates her narrative at this point so that Myra's return to the mountain to raise twins Laura and Johnny without her husband goes unexplained. The twins' accounts alternate in Part Two; Myra and then John narrate the novel's final 100 pages. This fractured chronology builds suspense, allowing for red herrings and portentous foreshadowing like Myra's box holding a ring with a man's finger still attached. When their mother is placed in an insane asylum, the twins are sent to foster care. Laura marries, but her husband drowns, and his mother takes away their baby. Brilliant but troubled Johnny burns down the Odoms' hardware store and seems headed for a bad end until he meets the mysterious Ford Hendrix, a reclusive Pulitzer Prize winner who once knew Myra and is missing a finger or two.

Pitch-perfect voices tell a story loaded with lyric suffering and redemption—bound to be a huge hit.

(COPYRIGHT (2009) KIRKUS REVIEWS/NIELSEN BUSINESS MEDIA, INC. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.)

October 15, 2009
A family saga grounded in Appalachia, Greene's debut follows the story of the Lamb womenByrdie, Clio, Myra, and Laurafrom the Depression to the present day. Poverty, folk culture, and the often harsh conditions of Appalachian life color the loves, hatreds, and losses of the Lamb family; for these women, circumstances beyond their controland some poor decisions of their ownlead to one unhappy ending after another. Though Greene has a flair for physical description, indistinct characters and frequent shifts in point of view throughout the novel lead to confusion, lessening the impact of the story's dramatic potential. Predictable plotlines detract from the enjoyment as well. VERDICT Fans of Appalachian culture and/or family chronicles may find something to take pleasure in here; casual popular fiction readers should likely pass. [See Prepub Alert, "LJ" 9/1/09; 50,000-copy first printing.]Leigh Wright, Bridgewater, NJ

Copyright 2009 Library Journal, LLC Used with permission.

Starred review from October 15, 2009
This stunning debut novel is a triumph of voice and setting. Following one impoverished family from the Depression up through the present, the story is told in six voices and set in a remote region called Bloodroot Mountain, so named for the rare flower that grows there, which can both poison and heal. The familys struggles with poverty and human cruelty and their endless search for connection are set against the majestic Appalachian landscape, which is evoked in the simplest and most beautiful language. At the center of this dramatic story is Myra Lamb, raised by her loving grandmother and born with sky-blue eyes and a talent for connecting with animals and people. Allowed to run free on the familys mountaintop, Myra is a charismatic figure who eventually draws the romantic interest of John Odom, the wealthy son of business owners in town. Their marriage, which starts out with so much promise, gradually turns abusive as Myra is imprisoned in her new home and prevented from seeing her grandmother. The long repercussions of their violent relationship, on both Myras children and Myras own sanity, are played out through the decades as each family member speaks to the lasting effects of John Odoms hot temper. With a style as elegant as southern novelist Lee Smiths and a story as affecting as The Color Purple, this debut offers stirring testimony to the resilience of the human spirit.(Reprinted with permission of Booklist, copyright 2009, American Library Association.)

March 29, 2010
In this saga of an Appalachian family haunted by trauma, great gifts, and greater tragedies, the story unfolds in first-person segments by rotating members of the clan, each revealing a different perspective to the same tragic events that span four generations, the principal being a beautiful, free-spirited woman whose choices drastically shape the lives of those who love her. The superb performances by the multiple cast reading the story are a saving grace to a promising but meandering novel. Each reader creates for his or her character a well-suited, textured voice rich with accent and sincerity. From Lorna Raver's sweet, artless, and determined Byrdie to Richard McGonagle's gruff John, the narrators breathe life into the young and old characters of Bloodroot Mountain. A Knopf hardcover (Reviews, Oct. 19).